


Wife always knows best

by acquamarinus



Category: Political RPF - US 20th c., Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:07:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27925759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acquamarinus/pseuds/acquamarinus
Summary: Takes place during the 1996 Christmas tree lighting.
Relationships: Bill Clinton/Hillary Clinton
Comments: 16
Kudos: 25





	Wife always knows best

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me after watching the Christmas tree lighting video from 1996. What was the story behind Bill being so clingy to Hillary's hand?

**Wife always knows best.**

_December 1996_

First Lady Hillary Clinton was pacing up and down the White House entrance hall trying not to look at her watch for the hundredth time. They were late. Like usual they were running according to CST (Clinton Standard Time) and she really was trying not to be mad at her husband. She knew that emergencies could happen and his schedule was unpredictable, but she was the one waiting for him while suffering from laryngitis and a slight fever.

Finally, he emerged from down the hall.

With just one look at his wife’s face, Bill knew he was in trouble. “Sorry, sorry.” He walked towards her and without stopping he put a hand on her lower back as together they walked towards the exit where their car was waiting. “It’s been a crazy day.”

They entered the car; the agents closed the doors and soon they were off.

“How are you feeling?” he asked her. He knew she hated being sick.

“I’m okay.” She said with a hoarse voice. Or even admit that she was sick.

Bill pulled something out of if his coat’s pocket. “Here, I had my assistant get them just for you.” He gave her a plastic bag full of honey and lemon hard candy. “They should help during the Christmas Pageant”

“Thanks” she whispered as she took the bag. He could be so sweet when he wanted.

She eyed what he had on. “Is that all you’re wearing?” she asked.

He looked down and frowned. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s cold outside and all you have is a small black scarf that barely covers your neck. I bet that you’ve even forgotten to bring your gloves with you.”

He waved her off. “It’s not that cold. I’ll be fine.”

She hummed and Bill immediately recognized the meaning behind it. It was the _“I’m the wife and I know what’s best”_ hum.

Just to make her point, she fixed her bright red scarf and her thick red gloves.

Luckily getting to the Ellipse was just a short drive and minutes later they were parked outside. The Pageant had already started and they were waiting for Patti LaBelle to finish her song so they could be announced.

They were listening to the singer backstage and something was definitely off.

“Listen, your tardiness sent Patti LaBelle haywire.” Hillary commented.

Bill just laughed and put his arms around her to protect her from the cold. Maybe it was colder than he thought.

Soon the trumpets played the familiar tune and a voice announced. “Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States and the First Lady.”

And Hail to the Chief began playing.

Bill took Hillary’s hand and together they walked on the stage. They waved to the crowd and greeted Patti LaBelle. Then they walked behind the glass to take a seat and watch the show.

The children’s choir were the first to sing and Bill immediately started nodding his head. Music always ran through his veins. Then Hillary noticed that he was squirming in his seat. She raised her eyebrow, but didn’t comment. He casually folded his arms.

“Are you enjoying the show?” She calmy asked. 

He bent his head down bringing his ear closer to her lips. “Yeah, sure. They’re good, aren’t they?” And he leaned down in his chair, arms still folded trying to keep the warmth closer to his body.

She nodded. “Are you cold?”

He quickly shook his head. “No, I’m okay.” He lied and they continued to watch the show.

Suddenly, Willard Scott arrived dressed as Santa Claus. “Santa is here!”

“Mr. President, congratulation sir!” Santa exclaimed to him referring to the re-election win. Bill laughed and nodded in thanks. “And to Mrs. Clinton, congratulation.” Hillary clapped and she too nodded in thanks. “Is Chelsea there?”

They shook their heads. Their daughter had preferred staying in the White House and having her friends over.

“Somebody had to watch the cookies, baking cookies.” Santa, aka Willard Scott, joked. “I understand you have laryngitis?”

Hillary nodded, still smiling. Seriously? Is nothing private in their lives?

“You know, we have an American cure for laryngitis. The best cure in the world is Florida orange juice and Tennessee Jack Daniels.”

Hillary and Bill laughed.

“And if it doesn’t cure you, it will put you to sleep.”

Bill whispered to her. “I bet you wouldn’t mind a glass of Jack Daniels right about now.” He teased her, knowing she didn’t like being put under the spotlight.

“Yeah. A cup of hot chocolate with some whiskey in it.”

He snorted.

The ceremony continued and they tried to pay attention to it not knowing when the camera would be on them. The next artist to perform was singer LeeAnn Rimes, a young talented voice.

LeeAnn Rimes was singing _White Christmas_ when Bill took Hillary’s hand in between his and tucked her arm under his. She didn’t really think twice about it. He was more affectionate that usual when she wasn’t feeling very well. He always told her it was because he wished he could take her pain away. They kept listening to the song, holding hands. He let go just to clapped at the end of the performance and he immediately took her hand again.

During the ballet performance, Hillary let go of his hand so she could take one of the hard candies he had given her before. Bill had managed to resist only fifteen minutes, but soon he delicately picked up her hand and tucked it again between his.

Okay, now she knew something was up and it didn’t take her long the figure out what. Part of her wanted to say _I told you so_ , but the biggest part of her was the part that reminded her that she was his wife and for better or for worse she would always take care of him. They applauded again to the performance and she laid her hand out for him to take without even looking. He clapped and looked at his hands in pain, red with the brisk cold. He took again her hand and tried to warm up his with her glove. “Come on, gloat if you want.” He looked down at her.

“Hmmm….” She turned her head towards me.

“You can tell me I told you so.” He glared at her, knowing that, as always, she had been right.

“I could, but I think you’re already suffering enough.”

He looked at her skeptically. That was new. She would never pass the opportunity to chastised him.

“But nothing will stop me later on, when we’re back at home getting warm.” She gave him a playful smile. And there it was.

And just to damage even more his situation, Patti LaBelle complained how cold it was. He couldn’t blame her; it really was freezing. Soon it was time to give his speech. He wondered if people would notice if he skipped a paragraph or two, or maybe just delivered it in a faster pace than usual. Hillary would.

But, despite the cold, he had a big smile. The annual Pageant of Peace really put him in the Christmas mood. The holidays were near and the whole family would soon join them.

He called the kids so they could light up the enormous Christmas tree and he put his arm around his wife. The last part of the show was the sing along. Soon, he could get inside the car where the heating was on and then straight to the residence in front of a fire.

He put his hand in his pockets, but no, Bill needed Hillary’s hand and so he interlocked his fingers with hers. They sang, well at least he sang, Hillary was just mouthing the words, _Jingle Bells_ and _We wish a Merry Christmas,_ and then he hoped he could rush off the stage, but as his duty of President he had to shake everyone’s hands and then pose for a picture. He didn’t really mind this part. He loved being around people, but that evening he really wanted to call it a night and go back home.

He could see that Hillary’s eyes were glassy. Her fever had probably gone up again. He gave her signal that she could leave if she wanted while he stayed back to sign autographs for the children. Minutes later he was inside the limousine.

“I can’t feel my fingers.” His teeth chattering from the cold. The agents looked at him curiously, but they tried their best to give them some privacy.

“Oh,” Hillary rolled her eyes and took his hands in hers. “Come here you big stubborn man!” she exclaimed. She rubbed his fingers one by one trying to get the circulation going. She cupped them in her hands and blew soft heat on them. “So, what did you learn from all this?”

“Cold is bad?”

The agents tried to stifle their laugh.

She glared at him not amused. “How about to always listen to your wife?”

“I always listen to you” He defend himself. “Sometimes I just decide to ignore you.” He smirked teasingly.

“Yeah” her throat was on fire, she had a terrible headache so she really wasn’t in the mood for his goofy attics. “I wonder how cold it will be sleeping on the couch tonight?”

“I’m joking, I’m joking.” He quickly apologized. She must be really feeling under the weather if he couldn’t get a laugh out of her. “How are you feeling?” he asked worriedly cupping her cheek with his now warm hand. He took her hat off and put a hand on her forehead.

“I really want to crawl in bed and sleep until tomorrow morning.” Bill put an arm around her and pulled her toward him so she could rest her head against his chest.

“Let me take care of you.” He kissed the top of her head. “How about I make you a warm bath, prepare you my famous chicken soup and then I tuck you in bed?”

She hummed. “Sounds nice.” She closed her eyes.

“Okay. Rest honey, I’m here.”

He caressed her shoulder and back. That’s what they did: they took care of each other.


End file.
